


Welcome to the Twilight Zone

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Crack, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Humor, Parody, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Know the characters from Waking the Dead? Really? Good. Turn their personalities upside and that's what this story is about!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to the Twilight Zone

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

 

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

As Grace breezed into the offices that morning, Boyd couldn't help his pulse rising or his hands starting to shake. She was just so *gorgeous*, in every single way, and he had a major crush on her. Like an 'oh my God, I just *love* you' sort of crush. But he would never do anything about it. He was just too damned shy; how he ever got to be the head of the sharpest unit in the police force was anyone's guess. And guess they did.

So, Grace breezed in, skirt flowing, hips doing all kinds of things that hips shouldn't be allowed to do, and Boyd was on the verge of drooling all over his desk when Spencer rapped on his door loudly.

"C-c-christ, S-S-Spence," Boyd stuttered. "Are you t-t-trying to give me a h-h-h...?"

"Heart attack," Spencer replied impatiently. "As a matter of fact, I am. You die, I get your job, everyone's happy."

"B-b-b-b-but..."

"Oh, for crying out loud, Boyd, grow up!" Spencer took a long drag from his cigarette, completely ignoring the fact that he shouldn't have been smoking in Boyd's office. Or enough in the unit's offices, for that matter.

"Look at the pot calling the kettle black," Stella called to him lazily from her position reclined on the sofa in the squad room. Boyd didn't ask why there was a sofa in the squad room; it had appeared one morning and he just didn't have the balls to tell the team to remove it.

Spencer stomped over to Stella. "What did you say?" he asked, his chest heaving as he breathed quickly in an attempt to look angry.

Stella just eyed him in an unattached manner. "I said 'pot, kettle, black' and you heard me. You're like a teenager, Spence, thinking his brains are in his biceps."

"Children, play nicely," Grace said as she came out of her office.

Boyd had just been about to shout to Spencer... Well, of course he hadn't actually been about to raise his voice; he never did, he was just far too meek and mild for anything like that. He had actually been about to get up from behind his desk and walk ever so carefully out into the squad room, tap Spencer politely on the shoulder and ask him, ever so nicely what he had come into his office to ask or tell him. But then Grace came out of her office and...well, everything went to shit, basically. All reason and logical sense went straight out of the window and Boyd found himself staring at her like a slack-jawed idiot, which no one could blame him for, really. Grace was, after all, absolutely gorgeous. And she knew it.

"I wasn't doing anything," Stella replied calmly.

"You were...calling me names!" Spencer yelled, and then suddenly, as though the penny had dropped at the same time someone had switched a light on as lightning struck, realisation dawned on his face. "You called me black!"

Stella shrugged. "I also called you a pot and a kettle, but you don't seem too upset about that."

"But...black! It's so...fucking insulting!"

Grace whacked him rather heftily around the back of the head, causing him to yelp and pull out the puppy dog eyes. "Watch your language, Spencer Jordan, or I'll castrate you using nothing but the staple remover."

Spencer whimpered pathetically, while Boyd unconsciously dropped his hands to cover his crotch while staring in awe at Grace. Then the phone rang. "What?" the DI yelled into the receiver.

*"Firstly, 'what' is not the proper way to answer a telephone,"* Eve told him primly. *"Secondly, this is the interdepartmental line, which means it can only be me calling you seeing as everyone else is in the office with you, and there is no need to use that tone of voice with me unless I've done something to upset you, which is highly unlikely as I haven't seen you all day, unless that is the problem..."*

Spencer handed the received to Stella. "It's for you," he said blandly, then grinned smugly as he watched the DC roll her eyes at Eve's ramblings.

"Eve, it's Stella."

*"Oh, sorry. Little shit. I hate it when he does that."*

"He does it every time he picks up the phone and it's you on the other end," Stella pointed out.

*"Yes, well..."* Eve coughed. *"I need you all to come to the lab. I have something to show you."*

"The grand being of all that is wise requires our presence in the laboratory," Stella told them while stretching languidly.

Spencer had sat down in the nearest chair and folded his arms, a sulking expression printed all over his face. "Don't want to go," he said grumpily.

"T-t-t-then st-st-st-stay here," Boyd stuttered, hoping to placate the angry ball of angst that was Spencer.

Grace rolled her eyes in disgust. "He can't stay here, Boyd, stop pandering to him. He's supposed to be your second in command, so stop treating him like a petulant child."

"It's too easy when he acts like one," Stella commented, then shrugged when the profiler glared hard at her. "What? I'm only telling the truth."

"P-p-please don't st-st-start fighting," Boyd said quietly, looking like he was about to burst into tears. He hated conflict of any kind and as the team did nothing but fight, it was a surprise he had lasted as long as he had as the head of the unit.

The double doors from the lab burst open and Eve stood there, her hands on her hips. "I called you precisely one minute and six seconds ago," she scolded them. "How long does it take to decide to come into the lab?" With that, she turned and walked away.

"I suppose we had better go, then," Stella suggested lazily, waiting for someone else to make the first move.

Boyd was only too happy to oblige. The last thing he wanted was a truly pissed off pathologist on his hands. "Look, th-th-the sooner we g-g-g-go, th-th-the sooner it'll all be over."

Stella shrugged and followed Boyd, while Spencer looked like he wasn't going to move. And he probably wouldn't have done, if Grace hadn't grabbed his ear as she walked past, twisting it painfully and making him jump right out of his seat. At his glare, she just smiled sweetly at him, and Boyd, who had glanced over his shoulder at the yelping noise, couldn't help but think that Spencer was one lucky guy to have Grace touching him, even if it was painful.

They were all talking loudly as they entered the lab; Spencer complaining that his ear hurt, Grace threatening to clip the other one so they matched, Stella making off-colour jokes, and Boyd trying to be the mediator and peacemaker, and smooth everything over.

"Stop!" Eve commanded, and they did. Unfortunately, it was almost a pile up. "I've just cleaned there. Walk around."

"Where?" Stella asked.

"Where I've put chalk marks on the floor," she replied. "A clear path has been marked to show where you can walk and where you can't, and if you had been paying attention instead of bitching with each other, you would have noticed! I'm not about the clean this floor again just because you can't pay attention."

"I th-th-think we'd better d-d-d-do as she s-s-says," Boyd stuttered, aiming for the path.

The others rolled their eyes but followed his lead because he was, actually, the leader. "And don't lean on the units either," Eve warned them. "Use your own strength to hold you bodies up. That's what they're made for."

"Can we hurry this up?" Grace asked impatiently.

Stella looked over. "Hot date?"

"As a matter of fact, yes!"

"What, again?" Eve asked, shaking her head.

Grace tossed her head, her hair bouncing as she did so. "Well, when you're as smart, gorgeous and successful as I am, guys just throw themselves at my feet."

Boyd looked as though he had been about to do just that, though it was more likely to be from fainting at her proximity, but at Grace's words, he turned beet red and began shuffling his feet awkwardly like a school boy.

"Problem, Boyd?" Stella asked languidly, though her tone of voice indicated she knew exactly what the problem was, even if Boyd wasn't about to admit it.

Spencer scowled and started to light up a cigarette. "Of course he's got a problem, he..."

"Do *not* smoke in my laboratory," Eve said, her voice like the crack of a whip.

"What? You've got to be kidding me!" Spencer whined.

"I am deadly serious, Spencer Jordan," the pathologist replied. "This is a hygienic facility and I will not allow you to contaminate it by smoking! Not to mention the damage it will do to your health."

Spencer's face scrunched as he struggled to control himself. It didn't work. Within a few seconds, he had thrown himself face down on the ground and was beating the tiled floor of the lab like a child throwing a tantrum. Which wasn't far wrong at all.

"What is your problem?" Grace asked Boyd curiously, her eyebrows arching upwards.

"N-n-n-n-n-noth-th-th-th-thing," he stuttered outrageously.

Eve rolled her eyes, though her gaze was firmly fixed on Spencer's writhing form on the floor. "He fancies you," she announced.

Boyd's eyes widened dramatically, and his face, which was beet red a minute ago, suddenly drained of all colour. "I d-d-d-d-..."

"Please don't say that you don't," Stella said, shaking her head. "Because it's obvious to everyone that you do."

"Yeah, even me," Spencer added, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Grace was just staring at Boyd. "You can't be serious! I mean, look at me! I'm so perfect and you are just so...soft. There isn't an ounce of steel in you! Do you even know what to do with a woman, Boyd, other than stutter at her?"

Boyd's face flushed again from embarrassment, but before he could reply, Frankie strode into the lab. "Actually, Grace, I'll have you know that Boyd is absolutely *fantastic* in bed, and if it wasn't for my sudden job transfer to outer Mongolia, I would still be with him," she announced, winking and wiggling her eyebrows before walking back out again.

Grace's lips pursed for a fraction of a second before she grabbed a shocked Boyd by the hand and started to drag him out of the office. "Alright, let's see just how good you are, shall we?"

Boyd smirked. "Put it this way, I hope the walls in your house are sound-proofed," he said, all traces of his stutter gone.

FIN


End file.
